I was 12 years old when I started getting painful -like boils and scars on my inner thighs. I had no idea what it was and refused to tell my mom because I thought I was personally doing something wrong, like not showering correctly. Eventually, the boils became so debilitating that I couldn't walk and begged to stay home from school, eventually forced to show my mom.
She didn't have a clue what it was. The two of us spent the next few years trying to manage my symptoms at home and bouncing from doctor to doctor for answers. Some MDs thought it was , while others were just honest, admitting they'd never seen anything like it before.
It was discouraging to me as a little girl because it reinforced the idea that something's got to be wrong with me if the doctors don't know what they're dealing with or what I'm dealing with. The condition took a big hit on my mental health. The preteen and teen mind is vulnerable enough — your body is already going through so many changes and on top of that, I had to deal with the scarring and not being able to show up the way my peers could.
At one point, I thought my symptoms were being , which only added to the stigma. I hid my symptoms from my friends and classmates, feeling isolated and betrayed by my body. I still remember the anxiety I felt playing volleyball in school, having to wear spandex and always tugging at mine worried that people would see and the boils would spread.
With no answers, my mom and I often turned to self management .
